


His Mind Is His Prison

by Leelany



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Feelings, M/M, Mind Palace, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-His Last Vow, The Cell - Freeform, a dip into the past
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 08:24:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4599732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leelany/pseuds/Leelany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The connection of Sherlock's and Moriarty's minds had gone wrong. Now Sherlock isn't able to distinguish his mind from reality.<br/>John seems to be his only hope and has to enter and explore Sherlock's mind palace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Mind Is His Prison

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first attempt to write a story or something in general.  
> I hope you will forgive mistakes in grammar, vocabulary or little other things (locations, military or medical jargon) . Feel free to mention them so I can correct them and improve myself.
> 
> I had this story in my mind for months, but didn't have time or the courage to write and post it.  
> But here it is.

**Chapter 1**

It was ten days after Sherlock had returned from his four-minute-exile and had disappeared with Mycroft instantly, after Moriarty’s figure was seen on every channel possible. It was also nine days ago when Mary had disappeared, too.

The reunion between John and Sherlock only had lasted a few moments. No words had been said about their goodbye, only short glances and a silent ‘I’m sorry’ formed on Sherlock’s lips to him, bevor he had driven away with Mycroft. He even imagined that Sherlock had glassy, red-rimmed eyes. But it had happened to quickly.

John only had got a text a few minutes after Sherlock’s departure which had said, that he would message him in three days at most. But nothing had happened since then. Sherlock didn’t answer any texts, John even tried to contact Mycroft, but to no avail. Not even the homeless network nor anyone in the Diogenes Club knew something about their whereabouts.

Besides, Mary had disappeared, too, saying she had an appointment with her midwife and never returned home. Her reaction to Moriarty’s manipulated face had been odd. He had never before seen her so restless and on the brink to panic. But John and Sherlock had expected this to happen a while ago, so John didn’t thought much about his lying assassin wife with her faked pregnancy. They had read her memory stick, which revealed, that she was indeed a former intelligent agent, but went freelance, when a special case wasn’t handled after her will. The last part wasn’t on the stick, they got it from Mycroft’s connections. Sherlock had felt certain that she was connected with Moriarty during her freelancer-time. But couldn’t proof this at that time. It wasn’t coincidence that she had come into John’s life, ‘The universe is rarely so lazy’ Sherlock had told him. But her assignment hadn’t been to kill John, otherwise he wouldn’t still be alive. Sherlock was able to track down nearly all of Moriarty’s men, except for his right hand Sebastian Moran. He had hoped that Mary would led them to him. So they had to wait ‘til she would make a mistake or her plan came to life and they had decided that they had to act as if everything would be safe for her. John and Sherlock began to play that game on Christmas, but then the ‘Magnussen incident’ with Sherlock’s knee jerk reaction had happened. John had never seen such anger and despair in him. He knew that Sherlock hadn’t done this for Mary’s safety. Too many things unspoken since then, even on the tarmac. They hadn’t have a plan for this scenario, at least John didn’t know of any. At first he had thought the broadcast of Moriarty was Mycroft’s plan to save Sherlock from the exile, but then everybody wouldn’t have disappeared, would they?

John was sure that Mary was kept under surveillance by Mycroft’s team. He tried to trust Sherlock with this whole situation, but it got harder to stay at home each additional day. His nightmares got worse, too.

***

This night he dreamt that Sherlock and he were kidnapped by Moriarty’s men and Sherlock was tortured in front of him by Mary. She had him shackled and on his knees in front of a big wooden tub filled with water and she didn’t stop diving Sherlock’s head under water. Every time his head was lifted, he screamed John’s name until his body went limp. John screamed too, with tears in his eyes and futilely tried to rip his shackles, when suddenly he was free and found his hands around Mary’s neck, chocking her in blind rage.

It felt real. Warm flesh between his hands, the panic and pleading in Mary’s eyes when suddenly he looked into another pair of eyes, her face morphing into another one. “Oh yes, I would like to strangle you too, Mycroft,” John whispered in his dream. Dream? No. This wasn’t his nightmare anymore - sort of, it was Mycroft.

“JOHN. John, wake up! I need your help! _Sherlock_ needs your help!”

In an instant John was wide awake, realising that he was strangling him in reality, in his bedroom. Mycroft was pinning him to the bed and tried to wake him. He released Mycroft’s neck and tried to control his panicked breath. Mycroft released John too with the urge to loosen his tie to get more air in his lungs.

“Yes, yes I’m awake. I’m so sorry Mycroft! I had a nightmare and I thought I was strangling Mary, she… she killed Sherlock”, John’s voice was thick and he noticed real tears building up in his eyes. “But what about Sherlock? What happened? What has he done this time? Is he hurt?” John’s panic lessened, the imminent danger was steadying him. He jumped out of bed immediately to get dressed.

Mycroft stood to and straightened his tie and suit, looking collected as ever after being strangled. “John, calm down. It is complicated. He did something…stupid. And in a way he is hurt, yes.”

John stopped his motions and turned to Mycroft, the shock visible in his eyes.

“Get dressed and I will explain it all to you on the way, we have to hurry. I will wait in the car.” Mycroft turned around, took his umbrella and left a stunned John. He got dressed, took his Sig and left the flat.

“What happened? Where is he? Why didn’t you stop him? And why the hell didn’t you ask for help sooner?” John barely had opened the car door and bombarded Mycroft with his questions. His fear for Sherlock’s well-being transforming into anger for Mycroft. He slammed the door shut and the car moved off.

“Of course you have questions. Right now we are heading to Baskerville where Sherlock is.”

“Baskerville? But what could have happened there? What, is he glowing now like Bluebell? Or was he confronted with his human feelings again?” John chuckled a little.

“John! The situation is rather serious and difficult to handle!” Mycroft had a serious look on his face.

“I . . . I know, I’m sorry, but what’s the danger about Baskerville suddenly?” John asked.

“Well,” Mycroft began, “the next information I’m about to give you are top secret. Even I will likely get trouble for telling you all this, but you are my only hope. Sherlock’s only hope.” Mycroft paused, his gaze became distant and reflective.

“I’m sorry. Where was I?” he cleared his throat and was collected again. “Ah, yes. The last time you visited Baskerville you didn’t see the whole complex, only a glimpse. Baskerville is more than a little military base with a genetic research facility. It is Britain’s most secret research facility for nearly everything imaginable. It has the capacity and structure of a small town.”

“But there were only 4 floors and the waste level below. Where could all the people have been?”

“John, I said, you only saw a glimpse of it. Deep down, a beehive-like complex was build. There are ten more levels than the four you know. Each with a different research topic.”

“Now I know why it is called ‘Umbrella Corporation’!” John stared at Mycroft’s umbrella that rested beside him.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow in disbelief, “John, please say you’re not referring to that ridiculous zombie game.”

 “ _You_ know about a video game?” John tried to hide his laugh. “Oh, never mind. Please tell me more, what happened to Sherlock?” and he looked serious again.

Mycroft rolled his eyes at John’s emotional rollercoaster. “The best description is that he is in coma or better, a deep sleep. He can’t wake up alone. This is where we need your help, John.”

“How can I help? I’m not a neurologist, I don’t know — ”

“There is another way”, Mycroft interrupted him. “You have to help him from inside his mind.”

“What?” Now it was John’s turn to raise his eyebrows in disbelieve. “But how? This is impossible! Or will you shrink me in your mega secret lab and so I can move through his veins and cells in a little submarine?”

“John”, Mycroft pinched the back of his nose, “Now will you let me explain!”

John stared at him and nodded.

“Fine. No, you won’t be shrunk,” Mycroft rolled his eyes again, “We have a machine that can connect the minds of people, it is called ‘The Cell’. It was built by a neuroscientist who was desperate to wake his son from his coma. The little boy was found on a beach near Newquay, half drowned and surrounded by around a dozen of slaughtered seals.”

“Oh my god, I had heard of it,” John shook his head in disbelieve.

“He survived and the reason for his coma must had been the shock. So his father took an old concept of the machine and tested it on his son. After half a year he was able to save his son who had awakened from the coma. Afterwards, the seal slaughterer was caught He assumed that he had killed the little boy and only witness. Since then, the machine was used for research in Baskerville,” Mycroft finished.

“But what’s the reason for Sherlock’s coma? What reaction could have caused this?”

“Now this is the complicated part,” Mycroft paused again and took a deep breath, “Moriarty isn’t dead, not really.”

“Yeah I know, we all saw him everywhere,” John didn’t understand why he stated the obvious.

“Well, that’s the problem. It wasn’t really him. He had shot himself in the head before Sherlock’s jump, which is true. But he didn’t die. He hardly damaged anything inside is head, but he hasn’t regain conscious since then. We took him to Baskerville for research, but our best employees didn’t have the ability to reach Moriarty’s mind with the help of _the Cell_. I withheld this from Sherlock, knowing it was too dangerous to let him know about it. We both know that he would’ve done everything to get inside his mind. But we had no other option left after Moriarty’s apparent return. It was the only way to get information about his whole plan or if perhaps another mastermind was behind all this and where.”

John enraged and yelled at Mycroft, “So you let him get connected with Moriarty’s _hyper-crazy_ mind? Are you fucking serious?”

“John! I know you are upset, but —”

“UPSET? Are you kidding me? I want to strangle you, but now for real! I’m fucking FURIOUS!” John lunged forward but was stopped by the seat belt.

Mycroft drew back in his seat, eyes wide with fear and he raised his hands to calm John down. John was a little bit pleased by Mycroft’s behaviour und sat back again.

“Yes, I… we underestimated the situation, but we don’t have time for this. Sherlock is in acute danger in this state, because . . .“ Mycroft looked uneasy, knowing the fault they had done and that he hadn’t protected his baby brother.

“What?” asked John.

“Well,” Mycroft began to explain further, “Normally, the employee is connected to the patients mind, but every connection to Moriarty failed. So Sherlock insisted to invite Moriarty into his mind. He didn’t have the permission to do so, but two nights ago he locked himself and Moriarty in the connection chamber and started the program himself. He didn’t regain conscious since then. Moriarty must have done something that made Sherlock believe that his mind is reality, so he can’t wake from it. No employee was able to reach Sherlock, even I tried it, but without success,” a short flicker of disappointment was visible on his face.

“And now you think that I will be able to reach him?” John asked bewildered.

“Yes John, I think so,“ Mycroft said with full determination. “You are clearly the only person in the world who can reach him. You proved this since you met him. He trusts you with his life. You are the only one who can save Sherlock.”

“Yeah . . . yeah I think you are right!” John gave Mycroft a confident look, “Explain, what I will have to do.”

“I think I will leave this to the scientist, they can explain you everything. We will take a helicopter from RAF Northolt and arrive Baskerville soon.”

John sat the rest of the journey in silence, staring out the window, but not seeing anything. His mind was whirling with all these information - Sherlock, Moriarty, _the Cell_. He couldn’t quite believe all this. This wasn’t an American action movie or thriller. ‘How can you connect minds?’ John shook his head, but surely he will get to know that in a couple of hours. A more thrilling thought for John was what Sherlock’s giant, wonderful genius mind would look like? He imagined an enormous and superb palace, with big and high rooms, lights everywhere, showing Sherlock’s great knowledge and his big ego. He was excited to get to see Sherlock’s world, but also terrified, not knowing if he can really rescue him out of his great mind.

John was curious, hadn’t Mycroft mentioned that he tried to help Sherlock? Had he seen his mind palace? He had to know!

“Ehm…Mycroft?”

“Yes, John?” Mycroft shifted his gaze from the car window to John, scanning him up and down, “Ah, you want to know about Sherlock’s mind, obvious.”

John was about to ask wherefrom Mycroft knew this again, but after all his years with the Holmes’ brothers he dropped his question and only wanted to hear his descriptions.

“I’m afraid you have to see for yourself. It is . . ., “ again, he got that distant and sad look in his eyes. “No, you will see soon enough,” he finished.

A knot formed in John’s stomach, seeing Mycroft so full of sentiment wasn’t a good sign for Sherlock’s situation.

***

They arrived the military airbase in under 20 minutes, due to the lack of traffic at this late hour and Mycroft’ instruction to the driver that he should drive faster. Knowing that they wouldn’t get a speeding ticket. Another good point of being under his protection, thought John. He really appreciated most of the benefits with which Mycroft provided them and also his love for his brother. Sherlock would call him a traitor if he would say these things out loud, John thought, chuckling about their childish behaviour to each other.

The helicopter was waiting for them with revolving rotors and left the ground instantly when Mycroft and John sat in the back seats. The pilot told them that they would arrive Baskerville in a little more than an hour, having luck with the wind.

Ah, the east-wind, John smiled to himself and thought of Sherlock’s last words to him on the tarmac.

Mycroft was texting on his mobile the whole flight, oblivious of the landscape beneath them, which was only illuminated by the nearly full moon and towns and villages. John thought of their first visit of Dartmoor, it was a nice little holiday with Sherlock, when you leave out the H.O.U.N.D. and being drugged. But he had had a nice revenge for Sherlock, serving him his tea with salt instead of sugar every now and then.

Mycroft’s voice over the headset tore John out of his thought, “John, I have bad news.”

“Oh god! Is it Sherlock? Did something happen to him?” John asked, panic rising in his chest.

“No, it’s not him. It’s Mary, we lost track of her,” Mycroft admitted.

John didn’t comment, they first had to help Sherlock and then they would find and deal with her.

 

A few minutes later they arrived Baskerville and the helicopter landed safely. Mycroft and John were collected by Sergeant Lyons, he recognized him from Sherlock’s and his first visit here, but he had been promoted since then. “Mr. Holmes, Captain Watson? Please follow me.”

They were driven to a different building this time and escorted inside. No words were exchanged, everybody knew their destination. They entered an elevator without Sergeant Lyons and Mycroft pressed the button for level -8. John was nervous and excited at the same time, he would see Sherlock again, but he didn’t know what perils he had to expect.

Level -8 didn’t look like the sterile white labs with its glaring lights John had seen on his first visit. On the left there was a window and on first sight John thought that he wouldn’t be underground, because he could see a city, London, through it. It must have been a broadcast from a camera in London, a method to prevent claustrophobia in an underground building, he had heard of.

It seemed to be a hospital floor, there were doors with numbers, stretchers and nursing staff.

They stopped in front of room No. 12.

“I think you will want a moment alone, John,” Mycroft stated. “Our leading scientist will brief you about the procedure in a few minutes. Surely you will agree that we have to start as soon as possible.” John starred at the door and nodded once to show that he had understood. Mycroft was about to say something, but didn’t find the right words, and so he let it slide and left John alone. Showing sentiment wasn’t really his area.

John waited until Mycroft went around a corner, opened the door and entered Sherlock’s room.


End file.
